Light and Dancing Shadow
by Spring Zephyr
Summary: Haseo wants to have a serious discussion with Atoli. (contains references to self-harm)


**Character spoilers for GU volume 2.**

 **The subject matter is hard to write about, especially because it's hard to have open discussions of suicide. I also wanted to write both Haseo and Atoli's parents as "unknowledgeable, but having good intentions" in their own ways.**

"Hey, Atoli..."

Haseo mumbled something not quite audible. Then he seemed to lose the ability to speak altogether, and tried to communicate by waving his hands in restless circles instead. It was completely ineffectual and also – completely adorable.

Atoli's completely reasonable reaction forced Haseo's frown to become deeper, and also a bit less serious.

"D-don't laugh!"

"I'm sorry, Haseo!"

He stopped himself from saying she didn't need to apologize either. That would only make Atoli apologize more, and she'd probably start teasing him on top of it. But what he wanted to say was serious, underscored, bolded, and italicized – _**serious**_.

"Maybe I should've come up with a more important place to talk about this... like where we first met?"

Even without a third party member, this field wasn't very exciting... Wait, no – why would he want to ruin their first meeting place?!

Atoli, oblivious, chimed in, "You don't remember where we first met?"

"No. Do you?"

"Of course!"

Maybe he was being paranoid. She seemed so happy right now, and – agh, what did Silabus know anyway. He should've never said anything to Silabus.

"Well, not exactly," Atoli confessed a moment later, "but it's written in my diary, where I keep all of my important memories of the World."

"You have a diary for the World?"

"I keep a separate one for real life. That one... that one I don't use as much."

He didn't need to ask why. Thinking about the way her voice dropped off at the end, he didn't want to ask either.

"A-anyway..." Haseo paused, searching for some kind of segue way. What he came up with wasn't very good, but it was all he had. "Do you remember our first date? Offline?"

Haseo wished he could forget, but that was rather beside the point. At the moment.

"You were so cute!" Atoli cooed.

'No, I wasn't,' thought Haseo.

"It took forever for us to arrange a meeting, and you ended up coming over to my place. Except... Except I told my parents I was staying late after school, because the clean up committee was going to be short-handed that day."

"Yeah, I remember that."

Atoli had been nervous about it the whole time – what if her parents found out, or what if she cracked and said the wrong thing once she returned home? Luckily, neither of those things had happened. From Haseo's understanding, they'd barely said anything to her, which secretly made him happy.

"It was a better excuse than saying the animal club was going volunteering again... Since they always notice when there's feathers or fur on my uniform. I have to be careful when I'm taking care of the birds in the morning – Oh, but that's getting off topic!"

She continued prattling about the details for a while, occasionally reminding Haseo of things he'd forgotten. Or hadn't been aware of, like one of the reasons she'd turned down his offer to go somewhere fancy was because she didn't want Hiiragi finding out and sending her expensive clothes in the mail. Apparently, he hadn't gone through with his plans to make a new PC after all, nor had the relationship between himself and Atoli ever gotten sour enough to remove her from his mailing list.

"And then when it was time to order – oh, you were so cute!"

'No, I wasn't," Haseo thought, feeling slightly offended this time.

He was a full year older than Atoli, so why had he been the one inflicted with the blushies and an irrepressible urge to stammer at the cash register?!

"Aw... but there's nothing wrong with having the blushies," Atoli soothed.

Yeah. That was where he'd gotten it from.

He'd tried to tell himself it was like a normal, every day venture with a friend who just so happened to be a girl, but his brain kept providing "girlfriend" instead. After that, saying what he wanted from a fast food restaurant's menu became the hardest thing in the world.

"And you _were_ cute," she finished stubbornly. "There's nothing wrong with that."

Meanwhile, Atoli, whom he'd expected to be the shy and blushing one offline, handled the situation with ease. Despite being nervous about her parents finding out, her words and her smile had been unfaltering.

"Then, for whatever reason, you asked if I'd ever dated before..."

"Is that bad? But I was just curious..."

"Kind of? I know you didn't mean anything bad by it though."

Considering what he knew of their parents, it was probably their fault. Like one of those "children shouldn't date until after their married" types, on top of everything else they were. If the number of people Haseo had or hadn't dated was that important – it wasn't like it changed who he was as a person.

They made him so mad. Even more than his own parents who left him alone in the middle of Tokyo but at least bought him anything he wanted. Atoli insisted her parents had a reason for the way they acted, but Haseo wasn't so sure.

"We're getting off topic again," he sighed through gritted teeth.

Maybe one day he could convince Atoli to run away from home with her pet birds after throwing eggs at her parents' house and burning her father's porn magazines (Haseo was _sure_ the guy had some) in a fire pit. That day was not today, however.

"You called me out here to talk," Atoli admitted, "although I'm still not sure what for."

"The point I was trying to make earlier is... even though it was something as small as ordering off a menu, I could rely on you. If something more important ever happens, I know I can rely on you for that too."

What was he talking about? Between searching for Tri-Edge, combating AIDA, and saving Shino and Alkaid... The last few months, Haseo had relied on Atoli and the others more than he'd ever have to rely on another person again.

"I know I can rely on you too, Haseo!"

That gave him a glimmer of hope. With that added courage, Haseo finally pushed the words he'd been struggling to say out of his mouth:

"Atoli, have you been hurting yourself again?"

They were blunt, harsh. That was not the way he'd intended to make it sound at all, and the uncomfortable silence that followed was punctuated by a bitter, acrid taste in his mouth. Geez, he hated himself. But when Atoli hadn't signed in for three days or replied to his emails or given him any sign that she even _existed_ anymore, he'd gotten worried, and Silabus – Silabus had been the one to suggest he talk to her about it, so wasn't this technically Silabus's fault? Damn it!

It wasn't like he could explain how afraid he was that some day Atoli would sign out and never sign back in. He had no idea how this whole "suicidal" thing worked, but wasn't it supposed to go away after a while?

 _"Do you enjoy carving yourself up like that?"_

 _"She's only doing it for attention. Do you not understand that – if you keep this up – you could really die?"_

Even online, with the distance of polygons and keyboard shortcuts between them, the light in her eyes seemed to hollow out. That feeling of being unable to rely on anybody – of listening to her parents talk while she pretended to be asleep, blaming every possible situation and circumstance except the ones responsible. When she finally left the hospitable, they would attempt to talk to her about it. Then they'd tell her not to talk too much, not in public and not to a therapist because she _certainly_ didn't need a therapist – she wasn't mentally ill, she was just acting stupid.

Atoli was frozen in time, living in a memory of fights at home, accusations and self-blame, of the first time she had gone to the hospital and woken up with bandages on both wrists. Her mother had eventually apologized, but it was a heartfelt apology that only made her hurt more. The intentions felt right, but the words _"It's my fault you turned out like this"_ were wrong.

Haseo, on the other hand, had never felt so aware of every ticking second on a lazy Sunday afternoon like this one. He held his breath, he squirmed at his computer desk, he counted to ten as slowly as possible, and then, finally, he attempted to gently nudge Atoli out of her trance: "Atoli..."

Saying her name seemed to work, but it felt like too little too late when Haseo felt guilty for having said anything at all.

"I'm sorry, Haseo, but I'm not... not ready to talk about it yet."

"Yet?"

Atoli nodded, making an "mhmm" sound. She'd put the cheerful mask back on as smoothly as an actor in a stage play – which, in a way, she still was.  
"So that means – you aren't willing to talk about it yet, but maybe some day?"

There was a slight hitch in Haseo's throat at "some day", which felt so far away. She claimed she was feeling better, but Haseo wished he had a way to know for sure. When she'd disappeared last week, only for a couple of days, he'd been too worried to blame it on parents or homework or club activities like he would've with any of his other online friends. The fear that she was gone had gnawed at him, eaten at his entire being like rats at a garbage pile. Haseo never wanted to feel that way again, never wanted _Atoli_ to feel that way again.

"Some day," Atoli agreed.

It was hard to feel optimistic about that, but Haseo promised to try.

 **The moral of the story is "don't rush people to talk about things"... or maybe "plan what you're writing better".**


End file.
